Dr. Manetti walked Ian out of the room and up three stories of industrial metal stairs, letting him out into a clinical hallway. The higher up they climbed, the more people entered Ian’s range of perception. There were hundreds of people above, and many of them in poor health. We must be in a hospital.
A young woman in a white robe, seeing Manetti, walked over and bowed her head.
“Take the patient back to his mother,” Manetti said, wiping away sweat from his temple. “She should be in the waiting room, expecting a Mr. Dunai.”
The woman in white nodded cheerfully. “Alright, Dr. Manetti.” She turned her gaze toward Ian. “Let’s get going, Mr. Dunai. Your mother has been a bit...prickly since your absence.”
When Ian entered the waiting room, he wasn’t sure what to feel. Ever since he’d learned that Mother was waiting for him above, he knew that this whole loop situation was at least partially her fault. He wouldn’t have sought out this kind of experiment on his own; it would have been Mother who found the experiment and pressured him to become a participant.
He couldn’t even be angry; rather, he was exasperated. It was so like her to do something like this, to force him into the loop without understanding the gravity of her actions. He wondered if they’d told her that he might spend years in the dilation chamber.
Mother looked over in his direction, as though she sensed his gaze from across the room. She saw his form standing in the door and immediately shot up out of her seat.
“Ignatius,” she called out, expression serious. “You’re late. You had me worried: Nobody would tell me why a thirty minute procedure took more than an hour.” She walked over to him, her lips quirking up into a small smile. “Let’s get out of here and get something to eat.”
Ian sighed. “Let’s go then.” He sensed hundreds of vital signatures within their vicinity, with many of those outside the hospital. They must be in one of Selejo’s major cities.
Mother led him outside, holding onto his arm like a vice. Ian’s senses were immediately assaulted: the bright sun reflecting on buildings and puddles, the sounds of people and hoverglosses, the smell of petrichor from rain a few hours earlier. And then there was the feeling of Mother’s hand on his tense arm, rooting him in place. Everything felt hyper-real.
“There’s a place on this block we can go to eat,” Mother said, pulling him along. “And don’t gawk, it’s unsightly.”
Ian frowned. He wasn’t gawking.
Mother led the two of them into an upscale cafe, requesting a table by the window on the second floor. As they sat down, Ian folded his arms across his chest and stared out the window at the people on the street. Off in the distance, he could see a sliver of coastline peeking out from behind a series of glassy buildings.
“So it was a success?” Mother asked, interlacing her fingers. She said the words calmly, then took a sip of water while shooting him an expectant look.
Ian ignored her. As he did, Mother’s expression contorted into a devious grin.
“What?” Ian finally snapped.
Mother laughed. “You’ve grown a spine. You’re no longer so afraid of an old woman.”
Ian finally looked over, studying Mother’s aging face. All he could think of was her lost expression after he sunk Jupiter city into the lake. The harsh, demanding, petty woman in front of him was far more fragile than she let on.
“What were you expecting, signing me up for that trial?”
She gave him a quizzical look. “I didn’t sign you up for anything.”
Ian frowned. “Why else would I have agreed to be a test subject?”
Mother narrowed her eyes. “You don’t remember?”
Ian’s frustration leaked into his tone. “Remember what?” he asked.
Mother fingered her lips. “They did say that you would have short term memory loss as a side effect of the experiment. What’s the last thing you remember?”
A “side effect,” really?
“I last remember being at Academia Hector,” he replied coldly. “Now explain.”
“I’d tell you to stop being so disrespectful if I wasn’t so pleased,” Mother muttered. “So...it’s a bit of a tale. Aunt Julia entered your name and basic information into the Infinity Loop study. Thousands of people did so, everyone from regulars to nobles. I’m not exactly sure how she managed to bring your name to the top of the queue, but two days ago, you received a notice that you’d been selected.”
Ian frowned, trying—and failing—to remember any specifics about the past two days.
“What happened then?”
Stolen novel; please report.
“You were initially confused, since you didn’t sign up for the experiment. However, as the person who registered you, Aunt Julia was also notified. She reached out to both of us to explain the opportunity.”
Ian took a sip of water. “What did she say about it?”
“She said it was an opportunity people would die for.”
“And I agreed?”
“Yes. The experiment would only take less than an hour of real time. Aunt Julia did explain that since it was a dilation loop experiment, you’d spend much more than a few minutes inside it.”
“Did she indicate just how much time, exactly?”
Mother waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, she went on for a few minutes about how time is the most precious thing there is. In her words, every day in the Infinity Loop would be a treasure. And a year or more in the Infinity Loop? Priceless.”
Ian sighed slowly. He knew that Aunt Julia could be persuasive; he could see himself getting swayed by her enthusiasm.
“You still weren’t eager to go,” Mother continued. “The thought of spending potentially years in a loop, on the off chance that you might awaken some dormant affinity...you seemed quite frustrated that Aunt Julia was pushing you to participate.”
“Then how...?” Ian narrowed his eyes. Was it ultimately Mother’s influence that made me partake in the experiment?
“Then?” Mother sneered. “Then, Aunt Julia threatened to cut our side of the family off from her yearly generosity. She claimed that if we couldn’t seize an opportunity when it was handed to us, then we weren’t worth her aid and attention.”
“So, long story short, it’s all Aunt Julia’s fault,” Ian murmured, poking his chicken with a fork.
Mother sighed. “Don’t put it that way. Even though the woman is from your father’s side of the family, she’s only ever meant well. She pulled a lot of strings to make sure you were chosen as an experimental subject, you know.”
Mother sipped her water. “It just so happens that you were an ideal experimental candidate. Young, likely possessing a dormant Death affinity, and...well, quite frankly, you are—were—afraid of practically everything. The perfect person to send into a crucible like a dilation chamber.”
An ideal experimental candidate. Ian couldn’t argue with that: He figured that it would be difficult for the researchers to find another candidate destined to awaken 99% affinity.
“Don’t you realize?” Mother continued. “You’ve received a great fortune. Even if you haven’t awakened, just your attitude change alone is worth thanking Aunt Julia over. The next time you see her, you’d better show some appreciation.”
“Do you know how long I spent in there?” Ian asked.
Mother paused. “A year?”
Ian grimaced. “Over four years, Mother. Four years stuck in a nightmare. No matter how great a boon it was, the experiment was inhumane.”
This seemed to have an effect on Mother, causing her to fall silent for a minute. “Four years?”
“Four years.”
“They said the maximum time was two years.”
Ian shook his head, smiling humorlessly. “222 weeks, to be precise. Did you consider the possibility that their experiment might have gone too well?”
Mother looked up, her brows furrowed. “What?”
“You said I took longer to return to the waiting room than you expected. Did you ever wonder if anything had gone awry?”
Ian paused for her to respond. She gave him a cool look, evidently waiting for him to continue his explanation.
“Did you ever consider that maybe the damned experiment went too well?”
Ian knew that he was letting his anger get the better of him, but he wanted to blame someone, wanted to vent. Writing the loop off as a stroke of fortune was too much to bear, especially when the riches of said fortune could very well leave him locked away somewhere or living with his autonomy restricted.
His original plan had been to try and escape whatever lab he was being held in and afterwards return to Academia Hector with nobody the wiser. But with his mother upstairs in the lobby, that plan had quickly fallen apart. It now seemed inevitable that despite the claims of anonymity, his high affinity would be leaked and connected to him at some point. When that happened, he was as good as doomed. Some opportunity!
Mother tugged at her sleeve. “Define ‘too well.’ And don’t raise your voice, it’s disruptive.”
Ian decided to blow caution to the wind and tell his mother right then and there. Let her worry about his future, too. He leaned over and whispered his affinity in her ear.
He leaned back in his seat and gave her a challenging look. “So?”
She just gave him a blank stare. “What am I supposed to think? I’m not supposed to take your assertion seriously, am I?”
“Do you need proof? Bring me somewhere remote and I’ll give you all the proof you need.”
Finally, Ian noticed her expression morph into one of concern. “But that’s not possible,” she muttered.
“Believe me, it’s possible. It happened.”
“Ignatius...” she looked at him with a troubled expression. “This...this is a calamity. If it’s true. And the experimenters have your potentioreading?”
Ian nodded. “They threatened me with our joint oath, said you’d fall into a coma if I didn’t do the reading.”
Mother’s expression became unsightly. “Then you should’ve left me in a coma!” she hissed. “This...I can’t protect you from the fallout. Do you know why they’re running these experiments in the first place?”
“Why?”
Mother turned away. “Forget it! You need to leave Selejo immediately.”
“But if I don’t return for more tests, they said—”
“We’ll find someone to break the oath, then, after the fact,” Mother seethed. “But you must get out. Otherwise you’ll be forced into taking an oath far worse.” She lowered her voice. “People say that the Eldemari sees and hears everything in Selejo. As soon as she finds out about you, she won’t let you go.”
Ian swallowed. “Fine.” In the loop, Euryphel once off-handedly mentioned that he could resolve most oaths Ian might find himself trapped in upon awakening. Ian supposed it was time to put the prince’s words to the test.
“You must leave today,” Mother insisted. “Ideally, somewhere as far as possible. Maybe Belloco, or Shibaria.”
“I already have a destination in mind, somewhere the Selejans won’t dare to go.”
She gave him a questioning look. “You do?”
Is it really that surprising that I made a plan in the four years I spent in the loop? Ian wondered.
“Yes; The Selejo Prince’s Union.”